I used to be certain.
Not just confident or comfortable, but certain in the way only a young person can be when handed a complete system and told it explains everything. I had been taught a theology that divided the world neatly into what was true and what was false. It came with answers for every question that mattered and, more importantly, it came with the assumption that those answers were final.
I didn’t question it. Why would I? It was what I had been given. It felt like truth because it felt like home.
When I listen to people argue about theology now, I often recognize something uncomfortably familiar. I hear the same tone of certainty I once had. I see people defending systems they didn’t build but have fully embraced. They assume their conclusions are objectively true and everything else is objectively wrong.
I understand that mindset because I once lived there.

Economic and moral ignorance is at root of fast food worker walkout
Old documents force me to rethink things I’ve believed about my father
Hurt people hurt people, and it’s hard to forgive that in ourselves
Time with couple reminds me how much I miss good conversation
Search for sexual pleasure can slowly destroy genuine intimacy
Rodney Dangerfield wasn’t funny, but tenacity built career as comic
Kids’ willingness to blindly obey shows in Quebec teacher’s joke
It’s great to visit Memory Lane, but it’s fatal to try to live there
Why are churches only talking about freedom as it relates to abortion?